


Gets What He Wants

by Lathbora_viran



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect 2 - Fandom, Mass Effect 3 - Fandom, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, literally just fluff, probably the single most fluffiest thing I've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 12:34:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12321198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lathbora_viran/pseuds/Lathbora_viran
Summary: The suicide mission was a success. Not even just that... everyone somehow came back alive. And they've finally told Cerberus to fuck off. The crew is elated but Garrus can't focus on it. Shepard seems to be the only person who hasn't caught on that they've won. The more she paces, the deeper the creases of her worry mark her face, the more certain Garrus feels that he needs to protect her from herself this time. He'll get her mind to stop circling if it takes all night. He'll get a damn smile.





	Gets What He Wants

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone who reads this who also read Escaping Ostagar, I deep apologise. A lot of shit came up at once, I ended up working three jobs. But November 1st I'll be down to one again and I swear by all that is holy and unholy and just plain weird that I will get the last 11 or 12 chapters of it up by the end of the year. Its made me feel so terrible that this unannounced hiatus came up. Please enjoy these small things I'm posting while I try and get up and running again.

               Well. This was a bit of a quandary. Not entirely, perhaps… they had survived what could only be referred to as a suicide run. Now he really had time to sit down and think about what had come… before it.

               Garrus felt the flare of his mandibles and cleared his throat as his thoughts jolted him from a rather in-depth review of the way Shepard was pacing the mess floor. It was enough to make her pause, sending a concerned glance his way until something tipped her off. His own gaze narrowed as a smug twist lifted one corner of her lips, her head giving a small shake.

               He needed to figure out where this thing was going. Not Normandy, everything was taken care of there; with her.  **This**. Even that small smile made him feel slightly better. Shepard hadn’t shown anything but irritable anxiety since she had left the communications room. Perhaps no one else had picked up on it. There was an unmistakable air of relief and challenge across the ship except for that tightly packed in bubble that gave his girl just a bit of a snap in her hips.

               Ah, but the problem wasn’t deciding if this was what he wanted… it was determining how to get what he wanted. A real damn smile like he hadn’t seen since he had removed his helmet and she had realised that Archangel was non-other than disgraced Turian C-Sec officer Garrus Vakarian. That had been something else, the utter relief in her body language had floored him even more than seeing her alive after two years. She’d lit up.

               If Shepard wasn’t going to put herself first every once in a fucking while, he would have… no, he would enjoy doing it for her. Without breaking the eye contact he’d made with her, ignoring the sunken shading beneath her eyes, he gave a slow wink. It made her look aside first, towards the ceiling with beseeching roll of those eyes as one hand rubbed at her jaw to hide either a grin or a flush. He wasn’t sure from this angle but both ideas were pleasing.

               Rising, he casually made his way toward the elevator. Part of him wanted to just pick her up and cart her off but she had a certain image to maintain for the crew. While a day might come where he decided enough was enough, it wasn’t today. Instead, as he punched in the floor he wanted and the doors slid noiselessly shut, he fired up his omni-tool and sent a quick message.

                _Lets talk. Meet in Loft._

It was simple, he knew she would jump to a certain conclusion. Its main purpose was only to get her out of sight of her men, however. He wasn’t sure how long he would have before she arrived, if she would linger to avoid suspicion. Their… relationship wasn’t secret by any means but professionalism was a must they both comprehended.

               “EDI. Mind helping me out?” He rapped a knuckle against the door, hoping that the AI would allow him in without Shepard being there first.

               “Of course.” The polite female voice didn’t unnerve him as much as it had when he first realised that Joker had released the AI from all her restrictions.

               Glancing over his shoulder, he breathed a sigh of relief as the door unsealed itself before the elevator showed any signs of movement. “Thanks, EDI. I owe you for this one.” He stepped through the door and continued into the room, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. Her response froze him briefly in his tracks, almost making him stumble on the short staircase.

               “Using the title of Overlord is an acceptable repayment.”

               He stared incredulously at the pulsing blue presence by the door.

               “That was a joke. Your thanks is enough.”

               Idly turning back toward the bed, he shook his head slowly, “You’ve been spending way too much time with Joker.” The next part of his task was determining how, exactly, he was going to achieve his desired results. He didn’t want to make her escape her problems, he wanted to make her legitimately relax.

               Delicately he lifted one of her pillows to his face, eyes closing as he breathed deep. A sheepish smile forming as he untangled some stray hair from his face.

               The response of his body at the pneumatic hiss of the cabin door and the soft sigh of his name was instinctive but completely illogical. His pivot and his arm added momentum to the fluffy projectile as the pillow was flung at his Commander. Ducking to his left behind the cover of her raised desk was just as automatic.

               A moment later he peered around the thin column at the top of the stairs, an unrepentant grin on his face even as he held himself ready for her response. Shepard sat on her ass in the middle of the entry, eyes wide and a pillow in her lap. He’d taken her so off guard it’d knocked her over. “That was my  **face** ,Vakarian.”

               He shrugged one shoulder in self-satisfied nonchalance, folding his arms over his chest. “Sniper’s reflexes, sweetie. Headshot every time.”

               Apparently, he’d pressed the right buttons as fire flared in her gaze and her hands gripped his weapon of choice. “That’s how you’re going to be?” In an instant she was up and down the stairs even as Garrus backpedalled towards the bed in search of more ammo. She got a few good hits in before he could clamber over the bed and reach the other pillow. He managed to get an arm up to defend himself in the meantime, trying hard not to laugh.

               “Still tackling a problem by trying to brute force it into submission, I see.” Garrus panted, getting her in the stomach as she wildly took another swing with her pillow, taking her shot with his shoulder.

               The eyebrow that arched at him as she paused was sliced through by a scar and, for some reason, always distracted him. It was still enough time for him to roll away and put the bed between them. “Giving up so soon, sweetie?”

               Her smile was just a bit wicked but it sent a shudder down his spine, “Sorry, I was still back on tackling and submission.”

               Garrus felt his jaw drop slightly before he shook his head to clear it, rubbing his free hand across his face in exasperation. “Alright, Shepard, seems I’ll have to clear some things up for you.” He was ready for her when she came at him across the bed again, blocking with his arm but twisting to grip her arm and throw her balance until she fell back onto the sheets.

               Shepard was scrambling back even as he came for her, “Hey, this was a pillow fight not a sparring match!”  She wriggled free when he gripped at her thigh to try and pull her back towards him. When she made it back to her side of the bed and backed up farther, he followed even though he knew she was deliberately drawing him into an attackable position.

               The grin on her face and the breathless spark of challenge in her eyes was impossible to resist and he wanted to keep it there as long as possible, even if it meant her getting the better of him.

               Which it certainly did this time. As his feet met the floor again, she tossed the pillow right into his face and lunged for him her legs wrapping around his waist and her hands gripping the front edge of his carapace as he collapsed back onto the bed with her above him. Shepard was biting back a laugh until he managed to break her hold.

               A quick shift of his hips rolled the pair so he had the high ground now, her arms pinned by his own. He’d discovered only a few days ago that his girl was really very comfortable despite the differences in physiology, so he smirked and settled in between her thighs. It had the added benefit of watching pink flare across her cheeks and the tips of her ears. He released her arms in favour of running his hands through her hair, watching the way her eyes drifted closed with the touch and her grin softened.

               When her thigh brushed his hip, he thought nothing of it but then the world flipped as she rolled him over again, and he realised her trick too late. With his shoulder, he could feel the edge of the bed and managed to put a foot down to brace himself, gripping her arms again as she nearly fell from him and the bed to the floor. When he gave her an arch look, she grinned sheepishly, “Guess you’ve still got reach.”

               Garrus yanked her back up over him, his chest shaking with the laugh he suddenly couldn’t keep in anymore. She was still flushed, her hair a mess falling in her eyes as he wrapped around her contentedly, but her eyes widened slightly and he could see the leap in her throat as he let his subvocals drop, “And you’ve still got the flexibility, sweetie.” His grip slid along her back and, for the first time in ages, she didn’t feel tense.

               Satisfied with his victorious distraction of his wayward commander, he let his hands sink into her hair again. This time he gripped the strands so his talons pricked at her scalp and felt her inhale sharply when she arched closer to him. Whatever happened, as long as they could still have moments like this… they’d be alright.

               He realised he was simply drinking in the sight of her when her hands gripped his waist with a faintly pleading sound escaping her. Garrus chuckled and finally gave in to the need he had to taste her kiss again, making her shudder as he nipped at her lip before delving in hungrily while her hands roved and clutched. 


End file.
